


Kiss prompt: the lycour of the burn

by sshysmm



Category: Lymond Chronicles - Dorothy Dunnett
Genre: F/M, Hugs, Kissing, Post-Canon, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-22
Updated: 2020-11-22
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:20:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27672616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sshysmm/pseuds/sshysmm
Summary: Kiss prompt from tumblr:47. A kiss paired with a tight hug, knocking the breath out of the person being hugged.Francis rescues a member of their party from the river. Philippa is relieved to have him back on dry land.
Relationships: Francis Crawford of Lymond and Sevigny/Philippa Somerville
Comments: 6
Kudos: 7





	Kiss prompt: the lycour of the burn

**Author's Note:**

  * For [notfromcold](https://archiveofourown.org/users/notfromcold/gifts).



The bedraggled puppy was handed safely into the arms of the crying child. Philippa helped the boy to wrap his pet in a rough woollen blanket and showed him how to gently rub the whimpering creature dry.

She turned, at last, to the other water-logged member of their party and her heart thumped hard against her breastbone at the expression on Francis’s face. He gazed down at child and puppy, the shadow of worry still lingering in the tightness about his eyes, the colour in his cheeks and the way he panted lightly, open-lipped from exertion and sentiment combined. His blond hair had been stained by rushing brown river water and now hung in dripping coils about his temples and brow. His fine clothes were shapeless and dark, ruined in the heedless rush to save the little life caught in the currents.

He was soaked through, but it did not stop Philippa from flying to him, her arms around his waist, her cheek and hair pressed to the damp sponge of heavy velvet.

“Ah, yunitsa!” He gasped laughingly at the strength of her hold. “You will be infused in the _lycour_ of the burn!”

“ _Than wring I it full wylely and wetis my chekis_ ,” Philippa replied, breathing in the fresh, metallic smell of the water and weed woven into his clothing. She pulled her arms tighter around his small waist and pressed herself to him until she felt the cold fingers of the river’s touch find their way between the layers of buckram and linen she wore. She stretched to kiss him, covering his chilled lips with her warm ones. His smile spread beneath her mouth and he enfolded her in his own embrace until it was certain that both would have to lose their wet clothes.


End file.
